Isle Esme
by A Romantic Enquiry
Summary: A oneshot of Esme musing over Bella and Edward's breakup in New Moon. (Stand alone. Not part of my Carlisle/Esme series.)


I stood at the window, gazing out over the sunset, watching the waves roll up gently onto the shore. Sometimes I could still scarcely believe this was mine. Isle Esme. There were moments, even after all these years that it hardly seemed possible. I caught myself toying idly with my wedding rings.

It was like this mostly in moments away from Carlisle. We would both get very involved in our individual projects and be quite content. Then it would wash over me that he wasn't at my side and I would wonder how this was all even possible, how was he even real?

My thoughts drifted to the family we had made together. It was not traditional by any means, but somehow it made our ties even stronger, it seemed. We all belonged not because of some biological tie, but because we all chose to remain part of it. Our loyalty and love for another was enforced only by our individual and collective desires for it to be this way.

Being separated was always difficult for me, despite those inevitable moments of wishing for time just for my husband and me to enjoy together. I wouldn't have wished for it at all if I would have known it would be granted this way. I knew that Jasper and Alice were together, as well as Emmett and Rosalie, and I found comfort in that—we still had frequent contact with them, so I knew they were alright. But the fear I felt for Edward and Bella gripped me like a mortal pang, a sickness.

I was sympathetic to Edward's concerns and feelings; I accepted and supported his choice out of love for him. Part of me agreed with him—it was a dangerous involvement, of that there was no doubt. Most of me was heartbroken for him. I knew he loved Bella and it had brought a fresh sense of joy, another facet of meaning to this existence to see him so happy finally, as he had been with her. I knew my own elation was nothing compared to how he had felt and my current pain only minor to his.

Glancing back over my shoulder, I saw my husband sitting in the next room, his eyes focused on the laptop screen, fingers racing over the keys at an inhuman pace. Neither of us had bothered to change from our swimwear. This was one place where we could openly enjoy the sunlight. Although the temperature would not have bothered us, it would look rather noticeably out of the ordinary to go swimming this time of year back in Forks and many of the other chilly, dreary places we had lived. I admired how handsome he looked, appreciating this moment of being purely us, without having to hide anything. I knew that no matter how close I was to anyone else, it would never be comparable to the comfortable intimacy we shared.

I could not fathom being strong enough to leave him, ever. Would I be able to make the same kind of choice Edward had? Could I leave Carlisle if it meant protecting him? Of course, I would do anything to protect him, but would I have the strength, the motivation to go on without him? These were questions that I found myself unable to solidly answer and hoped I wouldn't have to make that choice. The dark undercurrent of my own silent responses frightened me, not for myself, but for Edward and for Bella.

And what of Bella, I wondered, returning my gaze to the deepening colors of the evening over the sea. Did the very fragility and humanity that Edward sought to preserve and protect make it all the more difficult for her? I had no point of comparison for that. I knew that Edward would never forget Bella: he couldn't even if he tried. And I knew that even in the innocence of youthful interest, Carlisle had left an impression on me in one meeting that I had never been able to shake. Perhaps, I realized, my very humanness made the impression bury itself in my mind and heart even that much deeper; for, he had seemed so much beyond human even to me then—too perfect to forget, even with a fallible human memory.

Ultimately, I knew it was not my decision to make. It was between Bella and Edward. I still didn't know what was worse, leaving Bella to feel abandoned by us or reaching out to her—a tormenting reminder of what she no longer had. Though, if Alice's vision held true and she was to become part of our family for eternity, then perhaps this was merely a trial along the way. None of the rest of us had experienced a glamorous, painless introduction to immortality, after all.

"Stop worrying."

I heard Carlisle's voice behind my left ear, felt the disturbance of air and vibration the sound created.

Somewhere in the back of my mind, I'd noticed the ceasing of the clicking keyboard, the subtle movement of the chair across the floor, the growing closeness of his scent, but I managed at times to get so lost in my own thoughts that I simply chose not to acknowledge some things—an experience most akin to a human just not paying attention.

I leaned back into him. This was the feeling I liked most perhaps. The most emotionally exciting aspect to me of being a vampire was that I didn't really need his physical support. We could stand here for immeasurable time, the only thing likely to drive us to move being thirst. But we'd never grow tired or uncomfortable or anxious from just standing.

There was no biological drive to procreate; we could have each survived easily enough alone. I didn't need him to hold me up, but I wanted him to. The idea that both of us were motivated in our physical attachment to one another out of shear love and desire alone was incredibly delightful to me.

"We are and have done what's right, everything we can and should and we'll continue to do so," he reassured me, kissing me gently on the neck as his fingers wrapped around my shoulders.

I hung my head and my husband took the opportunity to brush my hair aside, pushing the length of it over my right shoulder.

"I hope so," I murmured.

It somehow continued to be deliciously surprising that every time he touched me, it still felt like the first time. Embedded in my mind was the shocking thrill of every first that had occurred between us. Throughout the passing of time, all of this time, we remained ever young and strong and passionate and fiercely in love, which afforded a vast variety of firsts. My memory raced backward quickly over the highlights from the previous evening back to our wedding night, our first kiss, even the first moment I had seen him as a teenager.

Though my heart had ceased to beat long ago, I still felt the magnetic, gravitational like draw in the cavity of my chest—that sense of yearning that comes with love to be ever closer to him in every way. I no longer felt the rush of sensation caused by human hormones racing through human veins. Like the blood we consumed that seeped straight into our cells, the pleasure of Carlisle's touch struck me directly at my very nerves.

There was no softening of the action or reaction. No matter how tender his caress, as it was now, it gripped me wildly, stoking a ravenous physical craving that could not otherwise be sated. Part of the commanding force of this experience was knowing that he felt the same way. To want and to be wanted so completely was indescribable.

He pulled the thin strings that held my swimsuit in place apart at a pace so slow it would have been maddening even to a human. I turned to face him, trying to control my movements to the savoring rate he had set. I looked into his eyes for a long moment. He appeared so composed, so focused, and there was a gentle persistence, a sense of command behind his eyes, but I wondered what he was thinking and if it reflected his stalwart demeanor.

"Carlisle," I whispered, pressing my bare skin to his as he pulled me into his embrace fully. When his lips met mine all of my worries, fears, other concerns aside from just he and I together slipped away, as always.


End file.
